


One Shots/Writing Prompts

by Kat123



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, F/M, One Shot Collection, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr kiss prompt, Writing Prompt, kiss prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2019-10-31 18:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17854940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat123/pseuds/Kat123
Summary: Collection of 'one shot's that take place in my fanfics ('The Book of John' or 'Shadow of Steel'). Most likely this will be writing prompts from Tumblr, but I might add my own one shots here in the future, who knows.





	1. Kiss Prompt: “…because the world is saved”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is from my Tumblr kiss prompt #41: “…because the world is saved” - for John Seed & my Dep Sarah Rook, requested by @foofygoldfish (thank you hunny! SO sorry for the wait!).
> 
> It takes place (somewhat AU? Not 100% sure, haven’t gotten that far in my fanfic yet, lol) post-Collapse, in a bunker. I hope people enjoy it! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about this kiss prompt::  
> I can’t promise that it’s absolutely my best writing, since it took me much longer to write it than I wanted and I don’t wanna continue work on my fanfics again until I have all my 'to do' prompts done first - so in an effort to be (somewhat more) speedy, I churned this out & did a 'quickie proofread’ to make sure it wasn’t abysmal before posting it. Like I said - not my best, so my apologies for any shortcomings in it!

Tumblr kiss prompt #41:  _“…because the world is saved”_  - for John Seed & my Dep Sarah Rook, requested by [@foofygoldfish](https://tmblr.co/mUWs_MAUcXiS7VnH7v_8u4g).

* * *

 “Proceed carefully... the very fate of the world hangs in the balance.”

“Don’t you think that’s being a tad bit... melodramatic?”

“ _Is_ it? Or are you just saying that because you fear you’re teetering on the brink of _complete annihilation??_ ”   

“...Is that right? Because... I seem to have more territory occupied than yourself at the present time.”

“Yes... isn’t it ‘amazing’ how that happened so quickly.”

“...Are you accusing me of some sort of deception??”

“I’m simply saying that for someone who’s probably never played a board game in his entire _life_ , you seem to be awfully adept at this one.”

“You don’t trust me?” John raised a tattooed hand and rested it over his heart in mock-indignation. “You wound me, Sarah. I can’t help it if I possess a trifle more... ‘perspicacity’ than you do.”

Sarah’s jaw dropped, the smile on her face suddenly gone.

“.......Oh it’s on _now_ , smart-ass.”

She ignored the smirk directed at her as she glanced down at the game board between them, eyes roaming over the scattered plastic pieces representing infantry, cavalry, and artillery. And yes - unfortunately, his troops outnumbered hers. Damnit. He _would_ be good at this game... of course he was. She didn’t know why she should have expected anything different.

She took a deep breath and snatched the dice up, giving them a wary shake in her tightening fist.

* * *

John sat back and sighed, his hands rising beside him in a resigned shrug.

“Well my dear... it seems I underestimated you. Your acumen’s on par with mine after all.”

Sarah merely stared at him, expressionless. Her arms crossed over her chest.

“And um, remind me again...” she challenged. “How is it possible that one moment you’ve conquered nearly all of Europe and Asia, but less than ten minutes later you’ve lost all but the Ukraine?”

“You were there,” he replied evasively. “This is a game of cunning _and_ chance, isn’t it? I suppose my luck just ran out.”

Her eyes slowly narrowed at him.

“.....I _know_ you let me win, John,” she rebuked after a pause.

“I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about.”

She leaned over the game board towards him, her gaze hardening.

“ _Je t'accuse_ ,” she countered, jaw tightening into a scowl. “Your luck ‘ran out’? That statement seems more _prevaricating_ than truthful. You showed a bit of reticence during the last few minutes of your gameplay, but normally - even when concentrating on something - you tend to be more loquacious by nature. And while luck _does_ play a part in this game, someone as punctilious as yourself is not very likely to make simple mistakes.”

She sat back in her seat again, lips pursing.

“Yeah - I can use big words too, remember hotshot?”

John smiled and shook his head, averting his eyes. “You said it yourself earlier... the very ‘fate of the world’ hung in the balance. And thanks to you, ‘the world' is now safe.”

His smile faded somewhat, causing Sarah to raise her eyebrows in curiosity. He was silent for a moment, and when he finally spoke again his voice was so soft she almost had to lean forward again just to hear him.

“The hero of the story won... the _better_ person.”

She blinked and stared at him, at a loss and not sure she’d heard him correctly at first. When his words sunk in, her face became downcast. Standing up, she walked over to him, drawing his eyes back up to hers. She placed her hands on his shoulders and gently sat on his lap.

His hands instinctively found their way around her waist as he watched her, an awed expression on his face.

Regarding him for a moment, she then leaned forward and softly pressed her lips against his.

He didn't respond at first, then slowly pulled her closer and kissed her back.

She eventually pulled back a little and rested her forehead against his.

“I love you... even when you're a stubborn twit,” she murmured with a soft smile, cupping his cheek in her right hand. “And no matter what anyone says... you're _my_ hero.”

John smiled back, giving her a gentle squeeze with his fingers.

“There are worse things in life than losing to someone you love,” he said. A mischievous look suddenly crossed his face. “...Especially when you get to sleep with the hero.”

He laughed as a nearby cushion subsequently made contact with the back of his head.

* * *

 _\- prevaricating_  = a statement known by its maker to be untrue and made in order to deceive  
_\- reticence_ = tight-lipped, discretion, avoidance of saying too much  
_\- loquacious_  = the quality of being wordy and talkative  
_\- punctilious_  = strict attention to minute details

 

“At fifteen life had taught me undeniably that surrender, in its place, was as honorable as resistance, especially if one had no choice.”  
\- Maya Angelou


	2. Kiss Prompt: "...because they’re running out of time"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is from my Tumblr kiss prompt #38: “…because they’re running out of time” - for John Seed & my Dep Sarah Rook, requested by @Pathfinderyderss (thank you hun! Sorry again for the wait!).  
> It takes place in my Far Cry 5 'The Book of John' universe... I just haven't gotten to that part of the story at this point in time yet, lol. Needless to say, Sarah & John have already grown closer at this prompt's point in the story. Enjoy! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about this kiss prompt:  
> I really enjoyed writing this one and playing around with the story of it, so I decided that this WILL be future canon for my fanfic 'The Book of John'. When I eventually get to that part of the story, I'll probably add more detail and internal dialogue to that chapter then - but for *now*, it was meant to be a 'short' prompt that kinda grew (I'm convinced even my 'short' stuff if never truly short, LOL). SO, if it seems a little lacking, please know that the 'future version' will hopefully be a little bit more fleshed out.

Tumblr kiss prompt #38:  _“…because they’re running out of time”_  - for John Seed & my Dep Sarah Rook, requested by [@Pathfinderyderss](https://pathfinderyderss.tumblr.com/).

* * *

 “...You brought this on yourself, you know.”

Sarah glared up bleary-eyed at the man looming over her, his facial features obscured by some sort of cloth mask - except for his eyes, which burned down at her with apparent disgust. A grunt escaped her as the van they were in lurched from side to side, causing her roped and bound body to flounder uncomfortably on the floor of the cargo area. A dirt road, she suspected. It made sense - the renegade members of the Whitetail militia that had splintered away from the main group weren’t likely to take main roads any more than they _had_ to.

The man held onto the bench to stabilize himself and glanced at his accomplice sitting across from him - also masked - who made a noise of contempt and shook his head.

“How you can even _stand_ to let a heinous shithead like John Seed _touch_ you - let alone... _whatever_ you got up to with him - is beyond me,” the accomplice added.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Sarah snarled back. “And even if I was going to try, you probably wouldn’t listen anyway.” Her eyes lowered to his militaristic jacket - specifically the large bulge in his side pocket. She swallowed a growing lump in her throat. “So what are you going to do with me, then?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “Take me someplace no one’ll ever find me and shoot me? Throw me in the Henbane River? _Hand me over to the Peggies and let them do whatever they see fit with me??_ ”

Her last question was pure snark, but her eyebrows raised at the amusement that appeared in the second man’s eyes.

“Well... you’re part wrong, _and_ part right,” he jeered, head turning towards the front of the van when a knock sounded from the wall separating the cargo area from the driver and front passenger seats. Sarah felt the vehicle slow down dramatically and her whole body tensed up. Wherever their destination was - they had arrived.

The first man stared down at her, eyes softening a little.

“It didn’t have to be this way...” he muttered. He gave his accomplice a small nod before meeting Sarah’s apprehensive eyes again. “No matter what happens... know that we take no pleasure in what we’re about to do. But sometimes... drastic measures need to be taken in war. Despite the good you’ve done, you also almost succeeded in killing Eli. You’re too dangerous, too much of a risk to the Resistance. And now that you’ve fallen in with John Seed, well... you’ve already made your choice.”

His eyes raised to the other man again and Sarah followed his gaze. The other man dipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out an object in his fist. Not a gun - but when Sarah realized what the item was, she almost wished it had been.

Not a metal weapon, wood. A small box. A metal key jutting out of the side of it - one that the second man began turning slowly. Sarah felt the blood in her veins instantly freeze like ice water.

“Where the f-... no...” she whispered, all her muscles going rigid.

The first man pushed opened the back doors of the van and her head whipped around, realizing the vehicle hadn’t come to a complete stop yet. It took her a moment to recognize where they were - but if she thought she’d been afraid before, the sight she beheld absolutely terrified her.

Seed Ranch. Dear God, they were at Seed Ranch - or driving by it, at any rate. And it took only a nanosecond for Sarah to put two and two together.

“No!” she cried out, her gaze snapping back to the second man, who lifted the lid to the box. As the tinny opening notes to ‘Only You’ began to play, the music barely heard over the noise of the van’s engine, Sarah’s vision began growing red around the edges.

“ _NO!_ ” she screamed, gritting her teeth as her blood pressure began climbing, white hot fury quickly taking place of her fear. “No, _please!!!_ ”

“Deputy Rook... may God have mercy on you,” the first man called out over all the din.  “And should you survive - please know that we did this for the good of the innocents in Hope County.”

He and the other man grabbed her by the robes binding her - her body convulsing and fighting her bondage. She caught sight of a flash of silver - a switchblade - and felt her ropes being cut before she was shoved out of the back of the van roughly, something being tossed out along with her.

She hit the ground hard and rolled a couple times before coming to a stop in a heap not far from the entrance to the ranch. In the back of her head she knew she was in pain - but rage was spreading throughout every fiber of her being and she was losing her battle to think of anything but her ingrained training.

_Cull the the weak. Hunt. KILL. SACRIFICE._

A few Peggies were starting to congregate at the ranch entrance, having seen the van toss her out - unsure of what was happening and weapons at the ready. She wanted to run in the opposite direction, to scream at them to _go, get the hell away!_

Instead, her eyes were drawn to the object on the ground that had been thrown out behind her - a hunting rifle. She bent slowly and picked it up, ignoring the shouts of the approaching Peggies.

_You are not a hero. You are a tool. Know your purpose._

The last thought she had before her vision began to blur, redness taking over, was, _‘John... please... run...’_

* * *

“ _NO!_ ”

John’s eyes slowly traveled upwards from the book he’d been reading at the sound of the first scream. He’d grown somewhat accustomed to that type of noise, especially within the last few months - sinners and nonbelievers _did_ tend to be a bit overdramatic, after all...

“No, _please!!!_ ”

But... here at _Seed Ranch_? His brow furrowed at the thought. There’d be no prisoners in this immediate area, and the few members of the Project he’d recently assigned to work at the ranch were either unquestionably loyal to him, or being strictly supervised. No one that would logically scream and plead for mercy like _that_...

His head snapped fully upwards at the gunfire that started outside, followed by angry shouting.

Discarding his book on the couch, he grabbed his rifle from the nearby dining table (he always made sure he was never too far from a weapon - one could never be too careful with the Resistance repeatedly causing havoc in Hope County). As he cautiously approached the ranch’s open front door, he could see several of his followers scrambling about and aiming their weapons at something - or some _one_ \- in front of them. More gunfire and yelling ensued.

“Cull the weak!” a female voice barked out, sounding almost... animalistic. Something about that voice sent a slight chill down John’s spine, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Protect Brother John!” a male voice ordered.

One of his Chosen rushed inside and slammed the door shut behind him.

“What’s happening out there?” John demanded. “Are we under attack?”

The Chosen swallowed nervously and gave a gentle but firm push on John’s shoulder, as if to usher him further inside the house.

“She was shoved out of a Project van that drove by the ranch and just started shooting at everyone,” he said hastily.

“Who?” John asked, ignoring the follower’s prodding. “One of the Resistance?”

“...Deputy Rook, sir,” the Chosen replied with bated breath, almost like he was afraid John was going to strike him for such an answer. “I thought she was on the path to Atonement, but... it’s like she’s gone crazy or something.”

John stiffened in an instant and shook his head.

“No - you must be mistaken,” he argued. “She wouldn’t do something like that, even despite her past sins.”

“Train! _Hunt!_ ” a female voice bellowed from outside, the barrage of bullets that continued sounding a little closer to the entryway. Even John couldn’t deny the familiarity of the voice, making his stomach twist with dread.

_“She’s getting close to the door!”_ The Chosen’s radio that was clipped to his side hissed to life. _“We gotta protect John, at_ _all_ _costs_ _!”_

Before he could even register what he was doing, John had snatched the radio away and pushed down its talk button.

“No!” he yelled back in response. “Do _not_ kill the Deputy! Do whatever you can to subdue her, but do _not_ kill her! I repeat - do _NOT_ kill her! I want her _alive,_ preferably unharmed!”

He lunged past the Chosen - disregarding the man’s protests - and threw the front door open. A couple members of the Project were sprawled out on the ground - alive, but wounded. His heart sank when he spotted an unmistakable Sarah a short distance away, rifle in hands, aiming at one of his followers.

She looked like a thing possessed - snarling, eyes blazing with unbridled fury... she embodied a wild beast, looking for a fresh throat to tear out with her bare teeth. If he hadn’t known it was her, he wouldn’t have recognized her. Though he didn’t know what the hell was going on, he knew something was very, very wrong.

“KILL!” she shrieked and fired a shot at the follower, hitting him in the shoulder. As the man yelped in pain and sank to his knees, her eyes met John’s. He felt as though he was looking at a complete stranger.

“ _SACRIFICE!_ ” she belted out and lined up her shot.

“Sarah, _stop!_ ” he shouted, trying to deter her before this ended in either (or both) of their deaths.

Another nearby follower with quick reflexes leapt forward and wrestled the rifle out of her hands before she could squeeze the trigger. Sarah didn't miss a beat, throwing a sucker-punch to the side of her aggressor’s face with a roar. She didn't get much further, however - she was still flanked by several of John's men and was immediately tackled to the ground by a couple of them, all the while shouting and twisting ferociously in her attempt to escape.

“Hold her down!” John approached her and the struggling men with caution, preparing to react accordingly if she managed to break free. He crouched down by her side and leaned forward to get a closer look at her face.

Beads of sweat dotted pale skin and her pupils were blown wide - her blue irises almost lost to the black circles within. Not cloudy green, however... Bliss was apparently not a factor here. She panted in between growls and watched John in a predatory manner, eyes narrowing in cold hatred.

“Know your purpose! Cull the weak! FIGHT!” she recited, still struggling against her captors.

“...’Cull the weak’??” John murmured, confused as all hell.

“Sir... what would you have us do with the sinner?” the Chosen behind John inquired with uncertainty. “She would have killed us _all_ if given the chance - yourself included. Should we... at least knock her out?”

His mouth formed a firm line as he stared down at her. He stretched a hand out slowly and gently brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face. She gasped and drew back from the contact, as if burnt.

“This isn’t you...” he murmured to himself. Ignoring the stares of his followers, he leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly against her temple, raising an eyebrow when she seemed to settle just a tiny bit. “What happened to you, Sarah?” he whispered.

“...My purpose...” she rasped to no one in particular. “I am not a hero... I am a tool...”

Something in her words struck a chord with John, but he wasn’t sure why, or what it meant.

“...Sir?” the Chosen repeated.

John looked up at his followers, his eyes traveling to and from each person, something else tugging at the back of his mind. His gaze came to rest on the injured Project members still lying on the ground.

_“I never kill anyone if I can help it,_ ” Sarah had once told him. _“Shoot and/or injure - yes, in self-defense... but the only time I’ve ever actually_ _killed_ _people are when I had absolutely_ _no_ _other choice. And even then, I absolutely hated it.”_

From what John had seen of Sarah in action, however, he knew that she _did_ know how to shoot, and shoot _well_ . Shooting to kill should _not_ have been difficult for someone of her skill level. It made him realize something: regardless of her rage right now, she hadn’t killed the Project members. Despite this... ‘madness’ (whatever it was)… she was fighting _against_ it. Or _trying_ to, at any rate.

He closed his eyes and sighed, frustrated by his uncertainty.

_‘God, give me the answer...’_ he thought. _‘Please tell me what to do...’_

An idea suddenly struck him like lightning as he remembered something else about Sarah, and his eyes snapped open again.

“...The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me,” John quoted. “Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, yet I will be confident.”

“Train... hunt...” Sarah repeated, but her thrashing seemed to diminish for a moment, fighting back against the Project members holding her down a little less than before.

John might not have opened a bible in quite some time (obviously preferring the Word of Joseph instead), but the Duncans’ merciless tutelage had made him just as well-versed as (if not _more_ so than) Sarah. ...Having to write and recite scripture for _hours_ on end for many years would do that to a person.

“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it,” he continued. “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. A man of wrath stirs up strife, and one given to anger causes much transgression.” He cupped the side of her face gently, hindering her attempts to turn away from him. “Fear you not; for I am with you: be not dismayed; for I am your God: I will strengthen you; yes, I will help you; _yes_ , I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness.”

Sarah grunted and shook her head, blinking her eyes a couple times. “Kill... sacrifice...” she moaned - but even as she spoke, her shoulders began to sag and her body slackened, the wrath in her slowly subsiding. Her pupils were gradually starting to look a little smaller, the blue of her eyes starting to be visible once more.

“My God... it’s working,” one of John’s followers murmured in disbelief over his shoulder.

“That’s it,” John crooned softly. “Come back to me, Sarah...” He began stroking the top of her head tenderly. “To do what is right and just is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice,” he went on, relief flowing through him at her improvement. “Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath. Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you. The Lord will fight for you; you only need to be still.”

With one final, ragged sigh, Sarah’s body finally went limp, no longer writhing under her captors. She lay motionless for several moments like one of Faith’s Blissed-out angels, seemingly oblivious to the world around her.

John looked up at the two Project members who were still holding her down and gave them a small nod, motioning with his other hand for them to let her go. They didn’t look wholly convinced, but followed his command and begrudgingly released their hold on her - not backing away _too_ much in case they needed to leap into action again in a moment’s notice. He moved from his crouch to sit on the ground and slid his hands underneath her frame, then gently pulled her into his lap, winding his arms around her.

She blinked a few more times all the while, gradually recovering from... whatever delirium had temporarily taken hold of her. Her gaze finally shifted, eyes moving upwards to meet his. She didn’t seem to register where she was or who she was looking at initially, but then the recognition slowly dawned on her.

“J... John?” she rasped, her voice hoarse from her earlier shouting. Her brow knitted in confusion.

“It’s all right,” he replied softly. “I’m here... I’ve got you.” He pushed a few more strands of hair behind her ear before resting his palm against her cheek. “You’re safe... you’re safe with me.”

“Holy Father…” one of the other followers muttered. “It’s as if... John exorcised the sin right out of her. It’s like a miracle.”

Sarah glanced over at the other Project members standing around them - some with their weapons still raised warily, others staring down at her and John incredulously.

_‘What...’_

It all came back to her in a flash: the ex-Whitetail militia capture, the music box, being tossed out of their van, praying that the Peggies would protect John, struggling in vain to fight the violent impulses overtaking her...

“ _No!_ ” she croaked, instinctively trying to push back out of John’s arms. He held her steadfast, not letting her get away, while the Peggies who still held weapons took aim as a precaution. “No John, you have to get away! I’m dangerous, please!” She squirmed uselessly, physically exhausted from her ordeal. Her eyes began to tear up. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Shh shh shh, Sarah... stop. It’s over,” John reassured her, tightening his grip. “Whatever happened to you is over now. You’re safe.” He bent forward and leaned his forehead against hers, never breaking eye contact. “You’re not going to hurt me... and I’m not going to let anyone or anything hurt _you_. I promise you that.”

She stopped trying to escape from his arms and paused, starting to think a little more clearly now. They didn’t have the music box here, and the chances of John using that cursed song against her were not high. He might have been a lot of things... but he wasn’t his older brother. ... _Either_ of them.

Realizing those immediately around her were free from danger - for now - made her settle down some, until she glanced around again and spotted the other injured Peggies. She may have disagreed with (even hated) some of the things they’d done - but it didn’t mean she just blatantly wanted them all _dead_. She eyed John again, her throat growing tight with embarrassment, guilt, and shame.

“I... I’m sorry,” she whimpered quietly. “I never meant... I couldn’t-”

“Sarah-” John interrupted her gently. “Your actions were clearly not your own. I know you wouldn’t do something like... _that_ to people unprovoked, even those you’d consider on a conflicting side.” She hadn’t even noticed the tears streaming down her face until he attentively brushed them away from her cheeks with his fingertips. “You were fighting it, I know...”

He shook his head and lifted her up in his arms, rising to his feet. “We can discuss all of this later,” he said. “For now, we should get you examined to make sure you're all right.”

He turned to his Chosen and the other uninjured followers, still standing nearby. “See to the wounded,” he ordered sternly. “Make sure they’re taken care of.” His expression darkened. “The sinners responsible for all of this will _not_ go unpunished.”

The Chosen nodded. “Yes Brother John,” he replied, and gestured at the other Project members.

John turned and carried a depleted Sarah back towards the ranch. He might not have known exactly what had happened here today - but he was sure as hell going to find out.

* * *

For the curious:

\- “The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.” (Psalm 28)  
\- “Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, yet I will be confident.” (Psalm 27:3)  
\- “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” (Proverbs 4:23)  
\- “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice.” (Ephesians 4:31)  
\- “A man of wrath stirs up strife, and one given to anger causes much transgression.” (Proverbs 29:22)  
\- “Fear you not; for I am with you: be not dismayed; for I am your God: I will strengthen you; yes, I will help you; yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness.” (Isaiah 41:10)  
\- “To do what is right and just is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice.” (Proverbs 21:3)  
\- “Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath!” (Psalm 37:8)  
\- “Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6)   
\- “The Lord will fight for you; you only need to be still.” (Exodus 14:14)

 


	3. Kiss Prompt: “…as a Yes”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is from my Tumblr kiss prompt #25: “…as a Yes” - for John Seed & my Dep Sarah Rook, requested by @elusetta (thank you hunny! SOOO sorry for the wait!).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay… the writing in this prompt is a bit rushed and ‘smushed together’ because:  
> 1) I didn’t want to continue working on ‘TBoJ’ (my FC5 fanfic) until I finished this and the other prompt I still have yet to complete, and  
> 2) because what happens in these prompts are excerpts of what’s to come in the future of ‘TBoJ’, so I wanted to get the ‘basic storyline’ ideas right. That way, when I get to that part of the fic, I can just pad and improve what’s already been written, as opposed to having to rework the ‘skeleton’ (so to speak).  
> Please forgive me if there doesn’t seem to be a lot of ‘character inner thought’ or as much description as one might like - it’ll be better/more detailed when it’s actually IN the fic, I promise!
> 
> PS: Formatting this thing is a complete pain on my tablet, lol. I will fix it to look a little nicer whenever I get to an 'actual' desktop computer - a few days at the most.

_Luxuria_

_Gula_

_Avaritia_

_Tristitia_

_Ira_

_Invidia_

_Superbia_

Sarah gently caressed the neatly inked words with her fingertips, examining every detail she could discern. How John had managed to tattoo such delicate letters successfully on his own hand, she’d never fully grasp - although... considering how much pain the man must’ve faced in his life up to this point... it was probably just ‘par for the course’ for him. A pang of empathy formed in her chest at the thought.

 _‘Pain isn’t necessarily something to be avoided,’_ he’d once told her, back when she’d been a ‘guest’ in his bunker and ‘encouraged’ to confess her sins. _‘Pain is simply a way to pull you to a point of clarity - it frees you in a way that no other experience can.’_

Her eyes drifted to the other markings upon his left hand and arm: the snake wrapped around his wrist that was almost obscured by the high-end watch he always wore, the ‘G-A-T-E’ between each of his knuckles, the half-scales of justice (the other half being on his right hand)... the chair, the axe, the birds…

She became vaguely aware of John speaking to her and turned her face up towards his.

“Hmm?”

One side of his mouth quirked upwards into a half-smile as he stared down at her, raising an eyebrow. “I asked if everything is all right?” he repeated, sounding somewhat amused.

Sarah nodded, giving the arm wrapped around her middle a gentle squeeze. “Just... examining your handiwork,” she replied, her thumb brushing gently across his skin.

His gaze darted down to his arm before meeting hers again.

“Maybe... you’d consider... doing one for me?” she asked hesitantly. Her lips pursed at the smirk that grew on his face as she rethought her choice of words. “I mean... _another_ one.” She rolled her eyes when she felt his chest start to rumble with a quiet chuckle. “... _Willingly_ , this time,” she added dryly. “...Smart-ass.”

John didn’t respond at first, turning his head to look out over the water from the dock they were sitting on. “Did you have anything in particular in mind?” he eventually asked.

Sarah shook her head, then laid it back against his chest.

“Not really...”  Her fingers traced over his tattoos again. “...Maybe you can think of something. Something that... represents a part of me, like yours do with you.”

John looked down at his left arm again, and his face became pensive as she watched him glance from marking to marking. He raised an eyebrow after a few seconds, then met her eyes.

“Perhaps... I have an idea.”

* * *

 “So... you still haven’t told me about this ‘brilliant idea’ of yours.”

John readied his tools as Sarah sat back in the chair he’d escorted her to inside Seed Ranch. He peered at her out of the corner of his eyes before securing a power cord into the back of his tattooing device.

“...Do you trust me?” he asked after a few seconds, appearing to concentrate intently on the machine.

She couldn’t help the mischievous smile that tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Well... that depends,” she said, her tone cheeky. “You’re not going to give me a ‘For a good time, call Sarah’ tattoo, are you?”

“Oh dear, it seems you’ve gone and spoiled the surprise - I suppose I’ll have to go with my _other_ idea,” he smirked.

Sarah laughed softly as he came around her chair and took a seat to her right. His smile faded as he regarded her for a moment.

“Jokes aside... are sure about this?” he asked softly. “You don’t have to do this... and I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that once it’s done, it’s permanent.”

“You didn’t seem this concerned with giving me my _first_ tattoo,” Sarah teased.

His mouth set into a firm line, brow furrowing in concern. “Sarah-”

She didn’t let him finish his thought, instead leaning forward and gripping the front of his shirt with both hands, then gently pulling him forward until she could cover his mouth with hers. She pulled back again after a few seconds, leaning her forehead against his. The way John watched her almost made her heart skip a beat.

“... _Yes_ ,” she murmured, flushing when his pupils seemed to dilate the tiniest bit. “I’m positive. I’m well aware that it’s permanent, and I want this.” She reached a hand up and cupped his cheek. “I trust you, John.”

John hesitated, then took a deep breath and nodded, Sarah allowing him to lean back in his seat.

“Famous last words,” he drawled.

* * *

 “Can I see it yet?”

“In a moment... I’m almost done.”

The only thing distracting Sarah from her increasing curiosity was the sharp burning and tugging of the tattoo needle upon the thin flesh of the back of her right hand. She had no idea what John was inking there (she’d promised not to look until he was done), and as time went on it was getting a little more difficult to remain motionless (oof... she’d forgotten just how much her _Wrath_ tattoo had pained her back then).

Grimacing, her back teeth ground together as she sucked in a sharp breath. She snuck a peek over at John, careful to keep her eyes on his face and not letting them wander lower. If she hadn’t been trying to keep still and ignore her discomfort, she might’ve been impressed with the look of concentration and focus upon his face while finishing up whatever design he’d come up with for her. It was... strangely captivating, seeing him so engrossed in what he was doing.

She blinked as she heard him finally click the machine off and she quickly cast her eyes away, not wanting him to see her staring. He delicately wiped at her skin for a few seconds and then stopped, and Sarah had a suspicion that he was surveying his work one last time before his reveal.

“All right,” he finally said softly. “Take a look.” She turned her head to examine her hand, eyes flitting over the fresh ink. A series of neatly printed words descended in a list, from her pinky finger heading towards her thumb, and she quickly realized the similarity to the ‘Seven Deadly Sins’ that were tattooed upon John’s left hand.

_Castitas_

_Temperantia_

_Caritas_

_Spero_

_Patientia_

_Humanitas_

_Humilitas_

Latin, she realized, and not the same words as John’s. She didn’t know the language _fluently_ , but understood bits and pieces of it. John watched her intently for a few seconds, then carefully took her hand in his.

“Chastity,” he murmured, his fingertips gingerly trailing over the letters as he moved down the list. “Temperance. Charity.” She noticed he skipped the fourth word and moved down to the next. “Patience. Kindness-”

“Humility,” Sarah finished for him softly, recognition dawning on her. Her eyes rose up to meet his. “The ‘Seven Contrary Virtues’.”

He nodded, the corner of his mouth turning upwards slightly. She looked back down and gestured to the fourth word in the list.

“ _Spero_ ,” she recited, tilting her head as she thought. “...Not ‘diligence’. A different word...” She looked back up at him, her cheeks flushing once more. “...Like _your_ tattoo.”

John’s smile grew a little. “...‘Hope’,” he replied. “Not an exact antonym to ‘Tristitia’, but I found it... fitting.” His right hand rose to stroke her cheek. “You are... like my foil, Sarah. The light to my darkness... you bring balance to my life. You’re... the better part of me.”

She smiled back at him, moved by his gesture and his words. She gently pulled him forward again, touching her forehead to his. “I love it,” she said quietly, feeling awestruck. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......I can't believe this short bit of writing took me so ridiculously long to complete. Now that it's done and I'm looking at it, it doesn't look like that much to me (length-wise). Sigh... it is forever frustrating to me how long any creative writing takes me now, lol. :-/
> 
> PS: For the curious:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_virtues - About the ‘7 Contrary Virtues’


	4. Kiss Prompt: “…out of love”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in 'The Book of John'-verse (though I'm not up to this part in my fic yet), AFTER Sarah has gotten her sin marked from John, in which she is now staying at Seed Ranch with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is from my Tumblr kiss prompt #50: “…out of love” - for John Seed & my Dep Sarah Rook, requested by @foofygoldfish - thank you hunny! Seriously, I will NEVER be able to apologize enough for the ridiculously stupid long wait on this!  
> (Like... this was back from DECEMBER, and I just finished this TODAY {JULY}. ::hangs head:: ...I have no words, except that I am forever sorry.)

“I am  _not_ sharing a room with you.”

John smirked and turned his head to look at the woman sitting on his bed and pursing her lips at him, her back against the headboard and arms crossed over her chest.

“I don’t believe you have a choice, Sarah,” he replied. He suddenly raised a pointer finger into the air. “Actually, I stand corrected - you _do_ have a choice. You can stay here, with _me_ , or you can return to your... ‘cozy’ little room back in my bunker.” One of his eyebrows raised slyly, challenging her. “If _that’s_ where you prefer-”

“There are no other bedrooms in this entire huge house?” she sulked. “And what about the rules of The Project?” She raised an eyebrow back at him. “Isn't this considered... ‘improper'?”

“You’ve been classified as a... ‘high-priority guest',” he answered. “And to be forthright, we can’t exactly trust you not to escape or cause any... ‘transgressions’. You’ll understand if your reputation in your little Resistance precedes your word.” 

He swiveled back towards his oversized walk-in closet, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection of the floor-length mirror on the back of the nearest door.

“As you’re aware, the Father himself directed that you be left in my personal care. There is no one - besides him - more trusted to supervise you than I,” he continued, popping the top button of his vest open. “Besides - I think you'll find that I have a good deal more willpower than some of our other Project members. Sharing a room with _any_ woman - let alone our lovely Deputy - might lure even some of our more esteemed members to, shall we say... give in to temptation?”

Her reddening face caused his smirk to grow. 

“Well I’m sure as hell not sharing a _bed_ with you,” she muttered, eyes narrowing as he proceeded to remove his vest.

“Having access to a considerable amount of money means being able to afford quite a large bed, as you can plainly see,” he said, hanging the vest up in the closet. “There’s plenty of room for _both_ of us. Besides, it _is_ my room - and I don’t intend to sleep on the floor.”

Sarah swallowed hard, looking increasingly uneasy as he started unbuttoning his silken shirt. “John-”

“Sarah-” he cut in, his voice a little softer now. “...I may be a lot of things, but a predator is _not_ one of them.” He turned his head to glance at her once more, raising an eyebrow again. “We are both intelligent, mature adults. I am fully capable of sleeping next to a person without forcing myself upon them. I am sure you are as well.” 

Seeing her visibly relax, he nodded slightly and turned his attention back to his shirt. “I also have no intention of sleeping in the clothes I’ve worn all day. I realize that you’re ‘out of your element’ here, but you’re free to borrow some of my clothing until we can find you something more suitable.” He gestured vaguely to his closet and unfastened his last shirt button, pulling the bottom of it up out of his waistband. 

After a brief pause, he sniffed and the corner of his mouth turned upwards again in the closet mirror’s reflection.

“Just as you are trusting me with ‘good behavior’ - I am trusting you not to maim me in my sleep,” he added dryly. 

He slid his shirt off of his shoulders, leaving him undressed from the waist up. He hung that up also, pausing when he heard her gasp behind him.

“Oh... God...” she murmured, her voice suddenly sounding nearer than before.

His teeth ground together, body stiffening instinctively. He was used to women in the past reacting similarly when they saw his bare back, though he always disliked the attention it caused - preferring to downplay the subject with those that had been privy to the sight. 

Drawing in a sharp breath, he turned his head to look at her and prepared to redirect her focus to something else - _anything_ else - but instead found himself thrown off guard by her expression. Not one of disgust or revulsion, to his surprise - rather, it was one of... grief? Concern? Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

She’d moved to sit at the edge of his bed just a few feet away and now stared at his back, eyes darting back and forth as she took in the numerous pale scars that marked his flesh like a road map.

“Are those...?” Her voice trailed off, lips pressing into a tight, thin line. “...Not recent. Not... from Joseph.” 

“...No,” he admitted. “From-”

“Your... parents?” she finished for him. 

He nodded and looked away - unable to hold her gaze for reasons he didn't entirely understand. 

“Mostly my father. Some were from my foster parents.” A bitter chuckle escaped him. “They were smarter, though... they learned not to leave too many marks on me, _most_ of the time... at least not where people were likely to see them.”

* * *

Sarah swallowed hard, feeling as if someone had suddenly sat on her chest. John’s past words to her suddenly surfaced in her mind.

_‘One night, they took me into the kitchen and they threw me on the ground, and I experienced pain after pain after pain after pain - and when I didn't think I could take anymore... I did.’_

The thought of an innocent little boy being savagely beaten by his father, by his foster parents... by people who were supposed to care for him, _love_ him, people he was supposed to be able to _trust_...

...and seeing the evidence of their betrayal right in front of her: the various raised lacerations that had long healed into light pink jagged lines going every which way...

“Oh John...” she whispered absentmindedly. All at once, waves of empathy, sadness, and fury surged through her, the emotions all fighting for dominance and threatening to rob the very air from her lungs.

Distracted by her own thoughts, she stood up from the bed and took a step towards him, trembling fingertips of one hand extending out towards the scarred flesh - then froze and drew back again as it became clear how very delicate the situation was.

John had turned his head back towards her and was now watching her intently.

“Can- ...may I...” she trailed off, not quite sure how to proceed with her request. John stared at her for a couple seconds, his expression hard to read. Heat rushed to her face and she was just about to back away when she saw him dip his head in a small nod.

“I... don’t mind,” he murmured. 

She paused, then reached back out - slower this time - hesitating just before making contact with his skin.

“I need you t- ...it’s very important for you to understand...” she said after a moment, “...I will not do anything without your permission. _You_ are in control right now. If you tell me to stop, I will without question. If you’re uncomfortable in any way, please tell me. All right?”

“I’m not a _child_ , Deputy,” he snapped back quietly, brow furrowing at her. 

Her gaze dipped downwards, feeling abashed. She hadn’t meant to condescend, she was just trying to be... understanding. She’d figured he was so used to being ordered what to do - between his parents, foster parents, and now Joseph - that it was imperative to her that he not feel trapped or forced into anything.

She began to back away when one of his hands suddenly seized her wrist, holding her in place.

“Just..... continue,” he said, his voice softer this time. “...Please,” he added, so quietly that she almost missed it.

Her eyes met his, and they stared at each other briefly before John seemed to realize he was still grasping her arm and slowly released his hold on her.

Swallowing what felt like a small lump in her throat, Sarah tentatively extended her hand again. The moment the tips of her fingers met with the skin of John’s back, his muscles tensed for the fleetest of moments before relaxing once more. She had a sneaking suspicion that it was an instinctive reaction, but put it out of her mind. As her fingers ghosted delicately over the keloidal scars, tracing their sporadic, criss-crossed paths, various excerpts from The Word of Joseph echoed in her memory:

_They psychologically tortured young John so effectively that he longed for the days of Old Man Seed's leather belt … He ratcheted up the shows of penitence, whipped himself, forced himself to kneel in the tiny, austere chapel the Duncans had built and pray for entire days at a time … I explained how our past had been painful, but necessary training. He had to accept it. As hard as it had been, it was nothing compared to what we would soon endure, on the first day of the end of the world … He promised to follow me and help me, unwaveringly and undoubtingly, unto death if necessary. I expected no less of him. I expect no less of all those who will join me._

“You’ve experienced so much pain...” It didn’t occur to her that she'd spoken aloud until John turned his head away from her, inhaling through his nostrils before responding. 

“Pain is just part of life... necessary. It makes you stronger... helps you survive things you might have once considered impossible. It gives you clarity. Reminds you that you’re alive.” His voice lowered, as if speaking more to himself than to her. “...The pain I’ve experienced is _nothing_ compared to what lies ahead for all of us.”

Her teeth ground together, partly wishing Joseph was here beside her so she could give him a good piece of her mind.

“Pain may be an unavoidable part of life... but it’s not the _only_ part,” she responded. “There are other alternatives, other solutions... it doesn’t always have to be the first-hand approach to things.”

“This is the reality of life, Sarah. It’s... the most logical solution.”

Her eyes narrowed up at him, lips pressing into a thin line.

“If you _really_ believe that... then why haven’t you cut the sin off of my chest yet? You named my sin, marked it upon my flesh… but yet haven’t carved it out?”

He opened his mouth to reply... but when no answer immediately came forth it shut again. She almost felt a little smug, thinking maybe she’d caught him unprepared - but the feeling vanished as quickly as it'd threatened to appear.

"Then again... to be fair, _your_ sin’s still on your chest, and Joseph has a bunch on him... probably all seven sins," she murmured. "I can't speak for Faith or Jacob, but-"

"Sometimes sins are left on the body when they have yet to be atoned for," John cut in. "Some followers choose to wear them _willingly_ , as a reminder of life's eternal struggle with sin." His head turned back towards her, but he didn't meet her gaze. "...When we’ve suffered enough pain, then - _perhaps_ \- we can be freed of them."

"...You haven't suffered enough _yet?_ " she asked softly, the words escaping her lips before she could stop them, or even realize the thought had entered her head.

John didn't respond right away, appearing to mull the question over in his mind.

"Joseph and I choose to shoulder the burdens of _all_ in the Project. It is our duty. We make that sacrifice so that they may be freed from their sin. Our suffering is their salvation."

Sarah glanced down at his back, her hands absentmindedly running across his scars again, as if she could make them vanish with simply her will and a soothing touch.

"John..."

"Maybe I was mistaken with you earlier." 

His words caused her to look up again quickly, eyebrows raised in a mix of surprise and confusion. 

"Hasty," he continued. "Perhaps Wrath isn't your greatest sin after all, Sarah." His head rotated a sliver more towards her, just barely catching her out of the corner of one of his eyes. "The Project is the right path - the _only_ path - that will save the worthy from the collapse of civilization. Your loyalty to your so-called 'allies', your 'Resistance'... your unwillingness to see beyond what lies and misinformation they feed you... your _Pride_ could end up costing you everything you hold dear, and _thensome_." He sighed softly and shook his head, looking away again.

"It needn't be that way. You can still be saved. You don't need to prolong your own suffering."

“...They’re my friends,” she murmured after a beat. “They care about me. They’re like my family... important to me. Like your family is to _you_. I may not hold your family in the warmest regard-”

 _‘...Understatement of the freakin’_ _year_ _,’_ her mind retorted.

-but I understand the love that you have for them,” she went on. “Would you be so quick to turn your back on _them?_ ”

“Your ‘friends’ use you, _exploit_ you,” he countered. “They capitalize you to serve their best interests. If you outlived your usefulness to them, would they continue to stand by your side?”

Sarah scoffed quietly, somewhat amazed by the irony of his words and his blindness to them.

_He promised to follow me and help me, unwaveringly and undoubtingly, unto death if necessary. I expected no less of him. I expect no less of all those who will join me._

“Joseph expects you to give your life for his without question,” she replied, ignorant of the way her thumb caressed his shoulder. “His followers are one thing, but... his own brother? After everything you’ve all been through your whole lives? After all it took for you to find each other again?” She drew in a deep breath, slowly. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… he asks so much from you. But… would he be willing to return the favor if your life depended on it? Would he put aside _his_ Pride for his family? You sacrifice so much for him... what has he sacrificed for you? I don’t mean the Project... I mean _you._ ”

John's lips parted to respond... but once again no words came forward.

"...You're wrong," he finally said, voice practically a whisper. "You're wrong about him." Sarah didn't miss the uncertainty in his tone, however. The expression forming on his face almost matched the cowed one he'd worn after his - _their_ \- encounter with Joseph on the night of her 'baptism'. John Seed - who was always so sure, so confident, so borderline cocky about _everything._  

_'Enough, Sarah... enough. Enough for now.'_

Her eyes lowered back down to his scars, and an uncomfortable tightness took hold of her chest. 

 _'I know he's done terrible things, but..._ _so_ _much pain... and not all of it visible...'_

With no thought to the possible consequences, she leaned forward and gently rested her forehead against the back of his shoulder, eyes temporarily closing at the warmth she felt there.

"...Don't deny yourself genuine affection and understanding because you think you don’t deserve it, or because you feel unworthy," she said softly. "Everyone - _everyone_ \- deserves a chance to love and be loved." 

Lost in the sentiment, she raised her face and pressed her lips against his marks, wishing that she had the power to take them all away. 

...It was several moments before she became cognizant of not only what she’d done, but also that the bedroom had fallen silent and John was staring at her, lips parted but his expression hard to read. 

_‘...Oh... oh shit.’_

“I- I’m sorry,” she mumbled feebly, heat rushing to her face as she started to back away from him. “I didn’t m-... I... I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t.”

A quiet gasp escaped her lips when John quickly seized her forearm, preventing any further retreat.

* * *

_'...Don’t take it back. Don’t say that you didn’t mean it... that it was a mistake. Just... please...'_

“Stay,” John requested, not letting go of her arm. “...Please.”

So preoccupied was he, that he didn’t even stop to consider that she didn’t really have anywhere else _TO_ go at the moment, with Project guards posted all around his ranch. All he knew was that whatever... ‘ _this_ ’ was..... he didn’t want it to go away. 

Sarah’s gaze trailed down to the hand holding her stationery, then back up to meet his eyes again. Her mouth opened to say something, but no words came out. 

John could practically _see_ the wheels turning in her head - he just didn't know which _way_ they were turning. He slowly relinquished his hold on her arm again - partly because of the compassion she’d just shown him, and partly out of sheer curiosity - then waited to see what her next move would be.

_‘All right Deputy... the ball’s in your court now.’_

She closed her mouth again as she glanced at the nearby bed, then returned her eyes to his. After taking a deep breath, she seemed to reach a decision in her mind. Her head made a small gesture back towards the bed.

“Come on,” she said quietly. She turned away, climbed atop the bed and positioned herself partially sitting up with her back against the pillows, then blinked expectantly at him. When he didn’t move and just continued to stare at her with scrutiny for a few seconds, she held up her hands in an innocent manner.

“No ‘funny business’,” she insisted, her eyes narrowing a little. “Good behavior.” John wasn’t entirely sure if she was referring to herself, or to _him_ , and raised an eyebrow when she proceeded to extend her arms out towards him. “Just... come here. Please,” she added politely.

After one more instant of hesitation, he warily climbed up beside her, surprised when she slid her arms around him and pulled his head gently into her lap. A moment later he felt fingers running through his hair, creating soothing touches against his scalp. Her other hand moved across his bare back, rubbing small circles into his muscles. Warmth coursed through him - from both the close physical contact with Sarah _and_ her ministrations. His eyes shut naturally as a deep sigh emerged from his lungs, his body giving in to the comfort she was providing.

_“Cast away your past.”_

Joseph’s previous words suddenly surfaced in John’s mind as he recollected a phone message his older brother had left for him not too long ago.

  _“You need to open up your heart. You need to see that there is more love all around you. … I’ve seen your death in a vision. … I’ve seen you die young. I’ve seen you die old. The difference between the two outcomes is how much love you let into your heart. … I want to see you become an old man in the paradise we prepared for. I love you, brother.”_

John’s lips parted, drawing in another long breath. Sin - anger, rage, envy... _wrath_ ... they had plagued him for _so_ long... 

He almost smiled, a sense of peace beginning to fill him that he hadn’t felt since... well... maybe since he’d reunited with Joseph all those years ago, when he’d learned that he _wasn’t_ alone in this cruel world anymore. 

_“You have to love them, John.”_

_‘_ _...Love...’_

He’d once thought the love of his older brothers, his fellow members of the Project would be enough for him, but... 

 _“...It’s not enough,_ _is_ _it John?”_

_“...Everyone deserves a chance to love and be loved."_

Perhaps Joseph was right (he usually _was_ )... perhaps there was something more that’d been missing in his life... 

John was in such a state of serenity that he didn’t even notice as he gradually drifted off to a restful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm FOREVER saying it, but... I really *AM* trying to not take forever to write stuff (I'm sucking at it, I know. It's forever a challenge). I have one more writing prompt to do (which I am NOT planning on extending out more than 1/2 a year like this one!!!), and then I can get back to 'The Book of John'!
> 
> PS: ...Okay, so the kiss technically wasn't *LOVE* love, and it wasn't on the lips... but it was a compassionate, emotional moment and my babies will get there SOMEday, lol! *XD


	5. Angst Prompt: “Why are you mad at me?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if this will be canon in the future of 'The Book of John' or not... haven't decided yet. >;-)  
> John and Sarah get some shocking news in the bunker post-Collapse, and don't quite know how to deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is from my Tumblr angst prompt: “Why are you mad at me?” - for John Seed & my Dep Sarah Rook, requested by @foofygoldfish - thank you again hunny! <3

“What do you think of the name ‘Charlemagne’?”

John’s face slowly turned towards Sarah’s. Though his dark-circled eyes met hers, he looked like his mind was about a hundred miles away.

“...What?”

“...If it’s a boy, I mean. ‘Charlemagne’. After Sharky.”

Discovering Sarah was pregnant from the bunker’s medical personnel had certainly thrown the two of them for a loop. ...Hearing that she was already _a few months along_ had thrown them several hundred miles _further_. They’d only been down in the bunker for a _couple_ months so far... considering just how much danger Sarah (let alone _both_ of them) had been in right up until their forced living conditions with the others had only added to their troubled thoughts.

...After a long, extremely tense, tight-lipped and uncomfortable couple of days, Sarah had decided that enough was enough.

“ ‘Charlemagne Seed’. It has a certain... ring to it.” She resisted the urge to bite her bottom lip to keep from smiling, opting to chew on the inside of her cheek instead. 

John, meanwhile, proceed to stare daggers at her. It took a couple seconds of angry spluttering for him to find his voice again

“Uh- wh- ...if you think that I would actually name my son after that... that... _degenerate_ -”

While she had no intention of _actually_ naming a baby ‘Charlemagne’, it brought her a tiny comfort that at least John was talking to her. Fighting was  _mildly_ preferable to the awkward silence that’d fallen between them. ...And if Sarah knew anything, it was how to effectively get under John’s skin.

“ _Our_ son,” she reminded him patiently. “And we don’t even know the baby’s gender yet. I was just making a suggestion.”

“Well _un_ -make it,” he snapped, “because there is  _no_ way I am calling _our_ potential son that.” He crossed his arms across his chest with a huff and looked away.

“We could call him ‘Charlie’ for short,” she continued, pretending she hadn’t heard him. “Or if it’s a girl, we could name her ‘Charlotte’, and _still_ call her ‘Charlie’.” She placed a finger against her lips, as if she were thinking hard. “Although... ‘Charlie Seed’ sounds kind of like ‘Charlie Sheen’, and I don't think I'm too keen on _that_...”

“ _Enough!_ All right?? Just-” John threw his hands up into the air, exasperated and eyes flashing fire. With a grunt, he sprang up from the bench they’d been sitting on, his fingers flying up to his hair and burying themselves within the strands. “Just _stop!_ ” He turned away from her, shoulders stiff and hackles raised.

Sarah’s eyes had widened at his outburst, but now they narrowed as she glared up at him.

“ _Why are you mad at me?_ ” she demanded, her teasing intent now gone. “It’s clear you’re under a great deal of stress, but you think _I’m not??_ We obviously didn’t consider this turn of events a possibility _months_ ago, but it’s not like-” She paused to whip her head around for anyone who might overhear. Seeing no one in the area, she continued in a quiet hiss. 

“Thanks to your ‘family’, there wasn’t exactly a plethora of _condoms_ or _birth control_ circulating around Hope County at the time! And my period’s been shit ever since your oldest brother almost _starved_ me to death in an outdoor cage, so I didn’t think the odds favored pregnancy anyway! And I sure as _hell_ didn’t-” she blinked a few times, then sighed heavily and shook her head as she lowered her gaze to the floor.

“I didn’t... plan on falling in love with you. With _anyone_ , really, but... certainly not with someone I once considered my _enemy_.” 

She saw John lower his hands and start to turn back towards her in her peripheral vision, and she shook her head again.

“I don’t regret loving you, don’t get me wrong. I _never_ will. I just...” She leaned forward, laying her head in her hands. “...I can’t do this without you, John,” she murmured after a moment, fighting back tears. “I don’t _want_ to. I _need_ you.”

A few seconds of silence went by. She felt John sit back down next to her, but she didn’t look up from her hands.

“I once would’ve sacrificed my life for Joseph’s in an instant, if need be... but I can’t say I never _once_ thought about having a family of my _own_ ,” John said quietly. “A wife, children... people to love and care for. I didn’t think it was likely, but deep,  _deep_ down, there was a small part of me that always hoped...” She heard him sigh softly. “I just... never thought it would happen quite like... _this_.” 

Sarah pulled her head up to look at him. John was staring straight ahead vacantly, suddenly looking more tired and drawn than she’d seen him look... well... perhaps _ever_.

“And now that it _has_ ,” he continued, “I’m... _terrified_.” The last word left his lips as a choked whisper. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. His shoulders sagged when he exhaled, as if the very weight of the world was pressing down on him. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to _be_ a father. I had _two_ of them, and they were _both_ -” He looked back at Sarah, as if remembering that she was still there. “Well... _you_ know. I don’t know the first _thing_ about children. I don’t know how to handle _any_ of this.” His tattooed hands wrung in his lap. “And if that alone wasn’t bad enough, I’m worried that something might happen to _you_.” 

Sarah’s lips pressed together in a firm line. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that going through this process while living in John’s Gate didn’t concern _her_ , either. Kim giving birth to Carmina had been crazy enough, and that had happened _above_ ground.

“Pregnancy and childbirth can be risky under _normal_ circumstances, even with the best of care,” he went on. “What’s it going to be like _here_ , without ideal conditions, supplies, or medical equipment? I just... I can’t-”

Before he could say another word, Sarah reached out and gently pulled him into her arms, nestling her head against his shoulder. He sunk into her embrace, holding her tightly as if she might dissolve if he let her go.

“First of all... _my_ father could barely _talk_ to me, let alone put his arms around me,” she replied softly. “And you know I was without my mom for a lot of my life. I don’t really know what I’m doing either, y’know?” She hesitated, not wanting to let go of him, but reluctantly pulled back just enough to see his face. She reached up and cupped his cheek tenderly, her heart clenching when he leaned into her touch. 

“You don’t have to be an expert, or win ‘Father of the Year’ or anything,” she reassured him. “Just... _love_ us. Everything else will just... work itself out.”

John leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, both of them closing their eyes briefly at the intimate contact.

“ ‘Us’... I’m going to have to get used to that,” he murmured.

“We’re _already_ an ‘us’, dummy,” she said, her mouth forming a small smirk. “We’re just... a slightly _bigger_ ‘us’ now. And as for worrying about _me_ \- you of _all_ people should know that The Project didn’t exactly expect people to keep their ‘legs crossed’ down here forever.”

“...What a lovely sentiment,” he replied dryly. 

Sarah chuckled softly. “There’s no telling _exactly_ how long we’ll all be down here - I’m sure the medical staff made preparations for at _least_ an occasional kid or two. So just... try not to freak out _too_ much, okay? We’ll just take this... one day at a time.”

John nodded and sighed, trying to will himself to remain calm again.

“So... ‘Charlemagne’s’ definitely out, right?”

“... _Never_.”


End file.
